Neal says hi

Peter began to feel desperate. They had found Wok of Fire, but it was further away from the water than they had hoped. But at least there was only one restaurant with that name. Peter set his GPS for the closest dock and drove. He saw a tail of FBI cars behind him. When he had reached the road's end he sprung out and was soon caught up by Rice.

"This is the closest dock to Wok of Fire," she told him.

That much Peter already knew. When he saw the old brick buildings matching the type of wall behind the girl he got hopeful.

"That sounds like our tugboat horn," Peter noted. He looked around. The whole dock was full of red brick houses. "So where's our girl?"

"I hope you're feeling lucky," Rice said, sounding pessimistic. "It's almost 4. Caffrey's out of time."

She left and Peter saw the men they brought spread out, searching for the right building.

"Neal, you copy?" he called into his radio. "Neal?"

"Tell me you found Lindsay," Neal answered.

"We're gonna need more time."

"It's 4, Peter. I'm already here."

"Then stall. He gets his hands on the case, the girl's dead."

He knew it was a heavy responsibility, but the kid had chosen the part himself. Neal and Jones had to work on their own. Peter could not waste time and energy to worry about them. He hurried after Rice.

They searched along the docks, passing building after building. It felt like they all looked the same.

Until… Peter slowed down.

"Wait, wait," he halted Rice. "Give me the still from that proof-of-life tape."

Rice turned to one in her team and Peter got a photo of the girl with the wall behind in his hand.

"What do you see?" she asked.

Peter held up the photo.

"Same crack in the wall," he said. "That's our place."

They both grinned.

"We got them."


Jones caught up with him on his way out. The agent kept a low profile just in case.

"Well done, Caffrey," he mumbled.

"Thanks."

"Where's the pickup-point?"

Neal handed him the note Wilkes had given him.

"Stay low, Jones, okay?" he requested.

"Sure thing, Caffrey."

They exchange a short nod and Jones was gone. Neal walked to the car that Wilkes had lent him with the driver's role. Time to deliver a briefcase.

When he got there it turned out to be a lonely, forgotten place beside the railroad tracks in Dutch Kills.

"Neal, you copy?" he heard Peter in his earpiece. "Neal?"

"Tell me you found Lindsay," he said.

"We're gonna need more time."

"It's 4, Peter. I'm already here."

"Then stall," his handler shot back at him. "He gets his hands on the case, the girl's dead."

Neal sighed. Peter was right. The white van he knew by now came towards him. Stall how? The case was right beside him.

His eyes returned to the case. What if…

Wilkes stepped out. Neal opened the case and watched all the cards. There was no time to hide them somewhere else. But…

His nemesis honked the horn, impatient. Neal gave him an assuring gesture, closed the briefcase, and stepped out of the car.

Wilkes walked closer, but not too close. They watched each other on each side of a poodle on the worn tarmac.

"Right on time," Wilkes said from his side. "I love that."

"Where's the girl?"

"Unfortunately, I won't be sharing that information with you."

Neal was not surprised.

"We had a deal, Wilkes."

"I lied," he got in return. Then a nod to the case. "Give it to me."

Neal threw him the case and the man caught it. He placed it on the ground but when he opened it he found it empty. Neal had removed all Reilly's fake items just before he left the car. So all Wilkes saw was en empty case where he thought it would be gold cards. It was as if he neither seemed surprised. He rose and glared at Neal.

"And I thought we had a nice thing going on."

"You lied, I lied," Neal smiled. "It's like a dance."

Wilkes was not as amused. From behind his back, he pulled his gun.

"You pull that trigger, those gold cards I stole from Edward Reilly are gone forever."

"If I don't have those cards in my hand in ten seconds I'm gonna make a call and I'm gonna kill the girl," Wilkes stated. "Then I'm gonna take my time with you."

Neal stayed cool.

"Five seconds. Three seconds. Now my guys are gonna have to kill that nice man's daughter."

He brought out his phone.

"Who says they're still your guys?" Neal improvised.

"Is that your play? You turned my crew against me? I expected more from you."

Neal shrugged.

"Who do you think has the gold cards?"

"You left them with my guys? You're not that dumb."

"You brought me into this. I bring up the average. Unfortunately, that makes you less valuable," Neal continued. "Your men agreed. It's time for new management."

"You're lying."

He was so sure of his men's loyalty, or the lack of time Neal had had, that he could say that without a hint of doubt.

"Call if you think I'm bluffing," Neal said.

"I think you're bluffing."

He made the call and it was nothing Neal could do to stop him.

"Kill her. And leave the phone on speaker."

Neal could hear his own heart pulse in his ears. He had to think of some way to stall, just for a second.

"FBI! Put that down! Now!" he heard from the phone though Wilkes had it to his ear. "Drop the gun! Drop the gun!"

"Damn it!"

"Sounds like they got company," Neal said.

Wilkes lifted the briefcase and threw it into the wall of the nearest building. It sprang open. So did the hidden compartment and the gold cards spilled out on the ground.

Both of them stared.

When Neal's eyes were back on his kidnapper he saw a muzzle of a gun.

"I guess that makes you obsolete," Wilkes told him.

"Now, I wouldn't do that if I were you," Neal took a step back, raising his hands in panic. Then he saw that Jones had his back and he pointed at Wilkes' chest where red dots from laser sights began to assemble. "I got friends with sniper rifles too."

"FBI! Drop your weapon!" Jones yelled behind him. "Drop it! Drop your weapon now!"

Wilkes did and raised his hands. A sturdy agent came up behind him and cuffed him. Wilkes kept glaring at Neal the whole time. It crossed his mind that this was the normal guys he had as friends in prison. A different situation then. Now he had helped the authorities to put guys in there. And guys like Wilkes would do anything to kill him. Not a pleasant thought.

"Agent Burke, we got Wilkes," Jones called in.

"We're secure here," Neal heard Peter's response. "We got the girl. What about Neal?"

Neal raised his hand in a greeting, too tired and worn out for anything else.

"He says hey," Jones translated to Peter and sent Neal a wide grin.

"Thanks, Jones."

"Thank you, Caffrey. You did a great job."

"So did you."

"Let's get back to Burke and Lindsay now." Jones guided him to a car.

On the way there Neal remembered that he still did not have his anklet on. And that he had planned for a meeting with Alex. Did he still want to do this? Not that he ever wanted to be in prison, but he had not been in any danger there. He could not count on that any longer. It had been troublesome enough when he was back because of that jewelry heist.

But he needed to find Kate. He could not let this go.